


In Our Bedroom After the War

by n_drangles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, domestic couple, karkat is a dog person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_drangles/pseuds/n_drangles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had seen the end of their universe and created two others in their wake and now they couldn’t settle on what brand of cereal they should buy regularly. It was exactly the kind of life Karkat had always dreamt of (his red quadrant comfortably filled, a distinct lack of culling drones to run from, a bakery right down the street) and he couldn’t possibly be more bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Our Bedroom After the War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airbattle.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=airbattle.tumblr.com).



After the game was won and human and troll cultures combined, the decision that would eventually turn into Karkat and Sollux being hivemates was based almost solely on the fact that Karkat could no longer stand the stench of Sollux’s too long unwashed clothes and Sollux could no longer stand Karkat’s bitching. Karkat’s stress would linger for the two weeks leading up to the move, and two weeks after that as well, and was punctuated by the fact that it didn’t change a damn thing. Karkat still didn’t see Sollux for days at a time. Sollux’s clothes still smelled like sewage. He waits patiently for new problems to rise up out of the shadows and leer at him. He stands poised and ready to do a pirouette into those fucking problems and give them hell. The problems never come, his metaphorical shoulders sag, and he sinks miserably into the dull repetition that is life with Sollux Captor. They had seen the end of their universe and created two others in their wake and now they couldn’t settle on what brand of cereal they should buy regularly. It was exactly the kind of life Karkat had always dreamt of (his red quadrant comfortably filled, a distinct lack of culling drones to run from, a bakery right down the street) and he couldn’t possibly be more bored.

 

A typical morning in The Life of Karkat Vantas involved all but draining Sollux’s recuperacoon in an effort to get him to wake up before eleven. While he waited for Sollux to get dressed he’d go ahead and pour him a glass of orange juice even though he always drank from the carton like he had no hive-training. He’d then sit at the kitchen table for about thirty minutes until he decided to go check and see what article of clothing Sollux fell asleep in the middle of putting on. Halfway to Sollux’s room, Karkat would begin to wonder if maybe he should get a job to pass the time. That thought would quickly vanish at the sight of Sollux with his pants half on, slumped over his desk, drinking a bottle of gatorade that’s been sitting there for three weeks. The rest of the day would pass in a similar fashion, with Karkat thinking about ways to fill his schedule and Sollux quickly dousing those plans with his rancid asparagus piss. “Don’t kiss me with that nutella shit on your teeth,” Sollux would tell him just before closing his bedroom door and dooming Karkat to another day of wading through the same old boring shit. Closing the door to his own room, Karkat would wonder if it’s deep enough to drown in.

 

“You want a what?!” There’s a lot of emotion in Sollux’s voice that Karkat did not expect to be there, and it shocks him enough to put his bowl of ice cream down and look Sollux in the face.

 

“I don’t just want a dog, Captor, I need one. I don’t think you’re registering just how crucial this situation is. Either we get a dog or I drown myself.” Their eyes meet, Karkat hitches his eyebrows a little higher and for a minute the silence convinces him he’s won.

 

“Our shower wouldn’t hold enough water for you to drown in,” Sollux deadpans as he shovels another spoonful of ice cream into is despicable mouth. 

 

The silence is a liar, Karkat decides, he will never trust the silence again. Another silence falls as he contemplates this, and he huffs angrily. “I bought it a sweater!” he blurts out. He did. It’s a red sweater with silver trimmings and it’s goddamn precious. If he doesn’t have a dog to put in it he will shit. He will shit and explode and there will be no one around the clean it up. He tells Sollux this. Sollux doesn’t answer. He shows Sollux the sweater. Silence hangs in the air once again as he stares through the sweater into Karkat’s very soul. Karkat clutches the sweater to his chest and glares down at Sollux. He won’t dignify Sollux with a pout, he won’t.

 

“Stop pouting, you don’t know the first thing about dogs.” Sollux says through the sweater which Karkat has just flung at him from his place in front of the TV.

 

“I don’t need to know anything about dogs, google knows everything about them. I bet there’s not one thing about dogs that google doesn’t know.” He snatches the sweater back from Sollux and folds it neatly. “I’m getting a dog, Captor. I’m getting a dog and there’s not a single thing you can do to prevent this from happening. You can either welcome our furry child with open arms or move into the garage, that’s your call.” Sollux’s only reply is a half-hearted “whatever” as he selects another episode of Mythbusters and plays it. Karkat is giddy for the first time in a year, awash with a strong feeling of triumph. He’ll call the breeder he’s selected tomorrow.

  
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Sollux wakes up a week later at two in the afternoon. He refuses to let himself be happy about his rare chance to sleep in, he knows something is up. Suddenly wide awake, he quickly climbs out of his recuperacoon and rushes through getting dressed. There is something terribly wrong, he thinks, when he hears high pitched sounds coming from the living room. They are very distinctly Karkat noises, but they’re not....those aren’t noises he makes. Is he hurt? Did he forget he mopped and slipped and that’s why he got to sleep in? Sollux doesn’t remember where the hospital is. He’s going to have to call Terezi and ask her to take them. It’s too early for this shit.

 

The only light on in the house is the one in the living room, it seems, and Sollux prepares himself for the worst as he makes his way down the hallway. He pauses for a moment when he hears a loud squeak and then Karkat making that fucking noise. He pauses for a long fucking moment. He takes the final three steps it takes to get to the living, and finds Karkat exactly where he expected to find him, sprawled out on the floor. Holding a green rubber steak. Something moves quickly a few feet away and Sollux doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to know what it is. He wants to go back to sleep. He turns to head back down the hallway and trips on something, and the something yelps as his face makes contact with the hardwood floor. Sollux barely gets out a not at all shrill or terrified “Fuck!” before he feels something on his face. Licking his face. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He’s going to go back to sleep, right here. Maybe he’s already asleep again. Maybe he’s dreaming.

 

Karkat’s voice completely derails that train of thought. The train flips three times, there were no survivors. “Oh joy, he likes you already. Don’t swear around Cusack.”

 

“You named him CUSACK?!” Sollux is on his feet again, watching Karkat bend over and pick up the heathen hound. He holds the dog out to Sollux, and Sollux sneers.

 

“When his tongue isn’t hanging out of his mouth he looks less like you and more like John Cusack.” He doesn’t have anything to say to that. He pushes Karkat-And-Creature out of the way and throws himself into his computer chair, still sneering. It’s very likely he’s never going to stop sneering at this point, he speculates. He toes the power button on the tower and slouches down, every bit prepared to ignore everything for the rest of his life. Maybe he can work something out for the after-life too, he deserves it.

 

Sollux gets thirty undisturbed minutes checking his email. He’s halfway through some newsletter from some site doesn’t even remember visiting when he feels a weight on his foot. He’s not even close to being done with ignoring everything and this, he decides, is no exception. It isn’t until what he suspects to be a tiny bark snaps him out of an Actual Important Business Email that he chooses to acknowledge the little shit. He sighs and scoots his chair back away from the desk just enough to look it in the eyes. He has the stupidest face Sollux has ever seen. Something deep down in Sollux twists and suddenly he’s reaching down to pick up the bug eyed freak. “Why doesn’t he has a nose?” He says it loud enough so Karkat can hear him from wherever the fuck he’s gotten off to.

 

“He has a nose, Captor, don’t make fun of Cusack. Cusack is flawless. Cusack is the epitome of perfect and there is absolutely no need to take out your jealousy on him.” His voice comes from the direction of the kitchen and Sollux takes the puppy and shuffles off to ask more dumb questions.

 

“What kind of dog is this?” he asks when he reaches Karkat. He punctuates the question by poking Karkat in the back with said dog.

 

“First of all, he’s not a dog yet, shit for brains. he’s still a puppy. Second of all, he’s not a thing. Third, he’s a pug.” Karkat doesn’t take his eyes off of the dishes he’s washing. Sollux quietly muses over his disappointment of the word ‘pug’ and his hate for John Cusack. He decides the dog’s name will be Otis. He is a genius. He heads back to his computer and figures out a comfortable way to hold Otis while he works.

  
\-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    
  


Karkat wanted a dog because he was desperate for companionship and he guesses he didn’t have enough on his plate with the drooling man-wriggler he calls a matesprit and needed to fill the void in his life with a drooling idiot dog. It’s not that he regrets getting Cusack. He doesn’t. He so completely doesn’t. He just had expectations for this dog, and they have not yet been met. He blames Sollux.

 

“Has it occurred to you yet that he’s never going to learn his name if you keep calling him things that aren’t even close to being his name?” Karkat asks of Sollux one night as they eat dinner.

 

“Has it occurred to you yet that he doesn’t come when you call him Cusack because he knows how stupid that name is?” He’s talking with his mouth full, and omelette sprays everywhere. Karkat barely suppresses a cringe.

 

“His little brain can’t even really process what a name is, let alone how stupid it may be!” 

 

“He responds to Otis, why can’t his name be Otis? What did the name Otis do to you?” Nothing, Karkat thinks, except torment during the last month. Will this dog ever appreciate anything he’s done for him? Will Sollux? All signs are pointing to a larger sign flashing a bright red NO in neon. Karkat is momentarily blinded. Sollux takes advantage of this by flinging a piece of ham into Karkat’s face, and Karkat responds by dumping his whole omelette on Sollux’s head.

 

“Clean it up yourself.” He says, putting his plate in the sink. If Sollux wants a war, a war he’s going to get.

  


Two hours later, they’re sitting on the couch watching an episode of LOST. They’ve seen this one before. Sollux always insists on watching every TV series twice “just in case he missed something.” It’s not too much to ask though, since Karkat still doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. This is where they spend every night before they go to sleep, curled up on the couch, Sollux’s arms draped over the back of the couch, his right arm half around the shorter troll’s shoulders. It’s the closest they ever get to cuddling. Despite how much he complains about pointy elbows digging into his back, it is Karkat’s favorite part of the day. He is nothing if not a hopeless romantic.

 

Tonight, though, the world decided to turn itself on its head. Cusack sits in Sollux’s lap, panting softly. The arm that is supposed to be around him is stroking the dog’s back. There is a fire behind Karkat’s eyes. He glares at Cusack, and the dog stares back, along with every hope and dream he’s never achieved. The weight of what is happening crushes him and suddenly he can’t move. Everything moves into place. Sollux feeding Cusack under the table no matter how many times Karkat demands he stop. Sollux joining them on the afternoon walk a couple of weeks ago. The way Cusack follows Sollux around the house like Karkat’s not even fucking there. It’s all adding up, now. He’s being replaced. This is his own fault.

 

“Are your eyes watering because you’re about to start crying or because your eyes are drying out?” He jumps at the sound of Sollux’s voice. He didn’t even realize that he had zoned out.

 

“Why do you want to name him Otis?” is the only response Karkat can come up with. He’s still staring at Cusack. He’s going to win this stupid staring contest.

 

“Are you seriously jealous of your stupid dog? You’re the one that wanted him! I’m just playing along!” Sollux shoves Cusack off of his lap between them, and Karkat finally looks at something other than the dog’s gross runny nose. He settles on the middle of Sollux’s chest.

  
“Playing along? That’s not how this works! You’re supposed to ignore him completely and get annoyed with how much of your attention he’s getting! You can’t switch hands in the middle of poker!” His eyes are burning a hole through that obnoxious yellow button up.

  
“Have you ever even played poker?”   
  


Karkat has the feeling Sollux is trying very hard to meet his gaze. It’s not going to work. “That’s not the part you’re supposed to be paying attention to! Explain yourself!”

  
Sollux sighs and wraps his arms around Karkat’s shoulders. “My explanation is that you’re an idiot. An adorable, waifish idiot.”

  
“I am not waifish by any stretch of the imagination, fartmonger.” Karkat says into Sollux’s armpit. He adjusts himself so he’s not front-row-center to the stench brigade. “Why is everything always a federal fucking issue with us?”

  
“Us? I was literally just petting a dog. Your dog. The one you got to pet.”

  
“The one I got for me to pet! Not you!” The shorter troll huffs and turns away, effectively disturbing Cusack and forcing him off of the couch. Sollux takes this as an invitation to pull Karkat into his lap.

  
He buries his face in Karkat’s neck and smirks. “You’re just going to pout no matter how many times you get exactly what you want.” He grabs the side of Karkat’s face and pulls it down to his own. “Fartmonger’s good, by the way. Use fartmonger more often.” Karkat closes his eyes because he knows what’s coming next. He’s going to let Sollux be the one to reach for the kiss this time. He waits, perched precariously on Sollux’s lap, until he feels the legs beneath him shift. “Uh, Cusack just pissed in the floor.”

  
Of course. “Of fucking course.” Karkat rolls back onto the couch and presses his lips firmly together before saying, “We can name him Otis, I guess.” He pretends to not notice the smugass grin Sollux throws his way.

  
He forces Sollux to mop up the puddle of dog piss, and makes him wash his hands before kissing him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've completed since tenth grade so um. i'm a little anxious about this. also if the plot seems rushed and karkat and sollux seem out of character that's because i have no idea what outlining is or actually how to write at all. maybe next time i'll have it figured out.


End file.
